


Splinter Kiss

by BryceWrites



Category: Sons of Anarchy
Genre: Alternate Universe, Chick-Flick Moments, Driving, Drunken Confessions, Drunken Kissing, Drunkenness, F/M, Gen, Hippies, Marijuana, Pre-Season/Series 01, Running Away, Sassy, Sassy Jax, Smoking, Tattoos, Travel, Whiskey & Scotch
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-17
Updated: 2015-06-17
Packaged: 2018-04-04 19:37:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,998
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4150266
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BryceWrites/pseuds/BryceWrites
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This is just a little thing I had to write to get out of my head and I kind of like how it turned out. The original idea was that Otto Delaney found this girl broke down on the side of the road and brought her back to the shop where her car got fixed and she fell for Opie. It didn't necessarily play out like my original idea, but I really liked how this turned out. Let me know what you think. Kind of pre-Season 1 AU.</p>
    </blockquote>





	Splinter Kiss

**Author's Note:**

> This is just a little thing I had to write to get out of my head and I kind of like how it turned out. The original idea was that Otto Delaney found this girl broke down on the side of the road and brought her back to the shop where her car got fixed and she fell for Opie. It didn't necessarily play out like my original idea, but I really liked how this turned out. Let me know what you think. Kind of pre-Season 1 AU.

I’d been driving for almost a half hour through the desert when the car sputtered and stalled out. I’d been enraged, pulling off to the side of the road as it died out on me. The temperature gauge was pegged in the red and I sighed, landing my forehead on the steering wheel.

That had been nearly another hour ago. Driving 65 on the highway got you a lot farther in an hour than walking did. I’d pulled everything out of the car that meant something to me in the event the car got stripped or broken into while I was walking back to town. It was hot and my backpack got heavier and heavier the longer I carried it.

The weatherman on the radio said the high today would be 90 with 35% humidity. I’d started out my journey in Colorado. We got to 95 some days, but never with anything more than 15% humidity. My hair still felt damp from my shower this morning.

I looked behind me and then in front of me, trying to see if there was any cars. Nothing for miles. Nobody coming one way or the other. I’d had two cars pass me about fifteen minutes into my walk, but they never even tapped the breaks.

The closest town, which was still probably ten miles back if I did my math right, was named Charming. I only remembered it because I’d rolled my eyes upon seeing the sign. I groaned, tiredly. I didn’t want to walk my happy ass the rest of the way.

Suddenly, thunder struck. I looked at the sky. Not a cloud in sight; let alone a storm. I turned around to see two motorcycles coming from behind me, heading in the same direction I was. I turned back around. A couple of bikers sure as hell wouldn’t stop for me, and even if they did, I wasn’t sure I wanted them to. I had my nine millimeter in the waistband of my jeans simply because I didn’t want to run the risk of it being taken from the car.

I kept walking, listening to them get closer and closer. When they finally thundered by on their bikes after not having much sound for the last hour, I had to cover my ears for fear of ruptured ear drums.

So when both bikes hit their breaks and pulled off to the side of the road not far in front of me, my heart sped up. Both of them were fair size in build; one definitely chubbier than the other, but they both looked like they could hold their own.

They pulled off their helmets, killing the bikes and I stopped walking. I glanced around. There were some sand dunes off to the west side of the road. I didn’t want to risk breaking my ankle running for them, but I knew if these guys came after me, I was done for.

They dismounted their bikes and started walking towards me and I couldn’t help but take a step back. The skinnier one put a hand on the shoulder of the big guy, making him stop on the asphalt. They whispered to each other for a moment, making my heart race.

“That your car about five miles back?” The skinnier one called from nearly a hundred yards away.

“Why?” I yelled back.

“You shouldn’t be walking in this heat.” He said.

“I’m doing just fine, thanks.” I told him.

He watched me for a moment before saying something I couldn’t hear to the other guy. “Ya know, we could give you a ride back to town. We’re mechanics. We could get somebody to bring your car back to the shop before it gets picked off.”

I liked the idea of the offer, but I wasn’t stupid. “I’m really doing alright.”

The look on his face told me he obviously didn’t approve of my choice. “I get that you probably don’t believe me. You’re obviously not from around here. We’re just trying to help.”

My heart felt like it was going to beat out of my chest. “Prove it.”

“You got a phone?” He called.

“Yeah.” I said, pulling it out of my pocket.

“Alright. 925-555-2886. Tell whoever answers the phone that you’re stranded and Bobby and Otto are offering you a ride.” He said.

“How do I know this isn’t a trick?” I asked back, even though the number was ready to call as soon as I hit the button.

“Just call it.” He told me, gesturing towards me.

I hit the button and put the phone to my ear, listening to it ring while I watched the two.

“Teller-Morrow Auto Repairs.” A woman said on the other line.

“Hey. Um… I’m stranded outside of Charming, California. Two bikers stopped to offer me a ride, Otto and Bobby. I’m not sold that they are who they say they are.” I told her.

“Where are you stranded?” She asked, sounding like she was moving papers around.

“On Interstate five, mile marker twenty-seven.” I said, seeing the marker not fifty yards from me.

“Are they patched in?” She asked me.

“I don’t know what that means.” I told her honestly.

“Do they have a reaper on the back of their leather that says ‘Sons of Anarchy’? Insignia on the front with titles?” She asked me pointedly.

“Yeah.” I said, remembering the symbol from before they got off the bikes.

“Alright, hold on.” She told me and I heard the phone get set down. It took a second, but the fat guy pulled out his cellphone and started talking into it. “You still there?” She asked, after the other guy had put his phone back in his pocket.

“Yeah.” I spoke.

“Alright. The guys are Bobby Munson and Otto Delaney. They’re part of the MC and they work for me here at Teller-Morrow. I’ve got a wrecker leaving the lot right now on its way to pick up your Mercury Cougar.” The lady on the other line said. “Both guys are safe to go with. They’ll bring you back here until we can get your car straightened out.”

I sighed with relief. This heat was kicking my ass. “Thank God. I’m melting.”

“Well, I’ll meet ya when you get here.” She said and the line went dead.

“Better?” The taller one spoke.

“You should know that I don’t totally trust you, but I’m about to pass out, so I’d rather not walk the rest of the way into town.” I said, moving slowly towards them.

Otto moved towards his bike, digging in his saddle bag which made me stall. But he pulled out a bottle of water and tossed it at me, which I easily caught. Water had been the one thing I didn’t have with me. I drank the first half of the bottle greedily before putting it back in my backpack.

“It’s alright that you don’t trust us. But no reason you should be out walking in this heat.” He told me, giving me a ghost of a smile. “You’ll ride with me. Bobby’ll follow.” He told me and I nodded, moving closer to his bike. “You ever rode a bike before?”

I nodded. “Lean with the bike and go with the flow.”

He cracked a smile, glancing at Bobby. “Ain’t bad.” He said, handing me a helmet before climbing on the mess of metal and leather.

I followed his suit, feeling uncomfortable with nothing to hold onto, but not trusting him enough to hold onto him.

He kicked the bike to life and we took off. We’d been riding for five minutes when we passed a wrecker going the other way with the Teller-Morrow logo on it, both guys waving at the guy with the beanie and beard who drove the rig. It didn’t take us long to get back to the auto shop, but I could feel the lack of water seeping into my bones. I stumbled getting off the bike, but Otto easily caught me, righting me. “You alright, kid?”

I nodded. “This heat is kicking my ass.”

“Where the hell you from? Alaska?” The fat guy, Bobby, asked.

I shook my head. “Ain’t that cold where I come from.”

A woman walked out of the main office for the repair shop and headed towards us. “You look as fragile as you sound on the phone.” Were the first words out of her mouth.

I cocked an eyebrow at the woman. “You sound younger on the phone.” I tossed back.

Her eyebrows went straight up her forehead and Bobby coughed, trying to hide a chuckle. “I’m pretty sure they need me in the clubhouse.” He said, walking away from us.

“Well you’ve got some spit. I guess that counts for something. Come into the office and we’ll get the paperwork sorted out before the guys get back with your car.” She told me, turning around and making a dull clunking sound on the concrete with her heels.

“Thanks for the ride, man.” I told Otto, following after the woman with highlighted brunette hair.

“So,” She said, closing the door behind me. I almost moaned at the feeling of the cool air from the air conditioner hitting my skin. “What happened before your car died?” She asked, pulling a form out of a basket and putting on a pair of glasses.

“Um.” I barely remembered. The cold air made me stall out. “It was kind of coughing and sputtering. Surging, I guess. And then the temp gauge was pegged in the red.” I told her, sitting in one of the chairs across from her desk.

She nodded, writing on a paper. “Have you been checking fluids? Did you run out of gas?” She asked.

“I’ve been checking fluids every other tank of gas. Everything was fine last time. It had a solid half a tank of gas. It gets a steady 28 miles a gallon, so I wasn’t worried about it when I went through Charming.” I explained.

She nodded again. “Okay. Sounds like your thermometer died out on you, which doesn’t regulate the coolant, so it overheated, but we won’t know until the guys get back.”

I nodded barely before leaning back against the chair, feeling relieved to not be walking anywhere.

“Where ya from?” She asked. Her tone was curious, but at the same time, there was another question she’d asked inside of it.

“Colorado.” I told her.

She glanced at me. “You’re a long way from home.”

I gave her a little smile. “That’s the point.”

She pulled her glasses off. “You runnin’ from somethin’, kid?”

“Well I definitely don’t have anything I’m running towards.” I spoke up, closing my eyes.

“Spoken like somebody runnin’ from somethin’.” She mumbled, and I heard some paperwork shuffling. “You got a name?”

“Lucinda Qualls. A pleasure.” I told her, looking at her again.

“Gemma.” She smiled a little. “Ya know, my grandmother was named Lucinda.”

I gave her a grin. “Mine too.”

She smiled softly at me and I decided whatever happened next with me and this woman, we had a connection. “Don’t drool on the chair if you fall asleep.”

I smirked before curling into a ball and laying my head on my arms on the chair. I didn’t know that I trusted her, but I could tell she wouldn’t let anything bad happen to me under her roof. Sleep came over me quickly.

I woke with a start, my heart beating out of my chest to Gemma standing over me. “Your cars fixed. It’s almost closing time.” She told me. I rubbed my hands over my face, sitting up in her chair. “Sorry. I don’t usually sleep that long.”

“During the day or at all?” She asked sternly.

“Yes.” I told her, nodding to answer both questions. I groaned, standing and picking up my bag. “I’m really sorry. What do I owe you?”

“On the house.” She told me, handing me the keys.

I watched her for a moment. “Why?”

She smiled softly at me and I could see her as a mom. “I’d like to think if I was running away and got stranded alone, there’d be a friendly face to help me out a little.”

“Yeah, but your guys are losing money.” I said, glancing at the window into the shop where some of them stood, laughing and messing around in between working on cars.

“Believe me honey. It’s out of my own pocket. Wouldn’t take a dime from a man who earned it.” She said with a smile.

“That means a lot to me.” I told her.

“You got a place to stay tonight?” She asked.

I nodded. “The motel on the outskirts of town.”

She watched me for a moment. “I don’t think I really believe you. I don’t have spare room at my house, but we can give you a bunk in the clubhouse, or one of the guys has a spare couch.”

“I appreciate the offer, but spending the night in either of those places makes me more worried than my car or a $50 motel room.” I told her and smiled a little.

She nodded like she understood. “Well, here.” She said, handing me a piece of paper. “It’s my cell number and the number to the shop if you need anything else before you get out of town.”

I watched her for a moment. “Thanks momma bear. You didn’t have to help me, but you did anyway.” I said, starting to walk across the parking lot.

“You’re one of those hippie freaks, aren’t you?” She asked with a smile.

I turned back to her with a grin as I shook out my deer skin vest. “Drop acid, not bombs.” I told her, holding up two fingers, the generic peace sign.

She smiled and laughed at me, moving back into her office. I smiled, moving to get into the car. I put the key in the ignition and it rolled over, roaring to life. I smiled at the car I’d had since Junior year of high school.

I pulled out of the parking lot and headed for the highway, hoping there was a cheap motel I could crawl into. I thought about the guys who had picked me up and how the morning had started off nicely. I thought about the man who drove the wrecker to get my car and how Gemma seemed like a mom to those around her. I figured her husband or boyfriend or something was in the club and had been a while now. She seemed like some kind of badass MILF motorcycle chick, but still a caring mom at the same time. It was mildly confusing if I was honest. My own mother had been your traditional ‘soccer mom’ until the day she died. The only interesting thing my mom did was cake decorating. And it wasn’t that Gemma was the opposite of my own mom, but I could see how neither of them would get along at the PTA.

I made a right at the intersection and started for the highway. I hadn’t gone but ten blocks before the check engine light came on and the temp gauge pegged. I quickly pulled off to the side of the road, turning the beast off. I got out of the car and sighed, looking at the thing. I pulled out my cellphone, but it’d died sometime while I was sleeping and wouldn’t even boot back up. In a rush of anger, I grabbed my backpack from the back seat and slammed the door before heading back the way I came. I was sick and tired of walking, that was for sure. It took me almost fifteen minutes to get back to the lot. But I stopped on the sidewalk, seeing the lights off in the office, even though the gate was open.

A man stood in a leather jacket with a reaper on it near the entrance to the clubhouse. He turned, hearing something and I saw it was the guy with the beanie who’d drove the wrecker. “Hey. Lucinda, right?”

I paused, not sure how he knew my name. “Yeah.”

He puffed on the cigarette. “Thought you drove out of here?”

I nodded. “I did. It stalled out again, ten blocks from here.”

His eyebrows drew together in confusion as he tossed the cigarette and stomped it out. “C’mon. Let’s go look.” He told me, nodding his head towards the only two bikes in the lot. He saw me hesitate and turned to face me. “I’m not gonna hurt ya.”

I watched him for a moment before nodding. Besides, I could see Gemma ripping out his guts if he did hurt me. I got on the motorcycle behind him and we headed out of the parking lot, following the road until my little red car on the side of the street came into view. He slowed down and pulled up behind it, parking the bike and letting me off.

“What happened when it stopped?” He asked, adjusting his beanie.

“The check engine light came on, the temp gauge pegged, and it was trying to die out.” I said, crossing my arms at the machine.

“Well, you’ve got an oil leak. I don’t know why we wouldn’t have seen it earlier though.” He told me, kneeling on the ground next to the rig.

I sighed loudly, kicking the tire with my boot. “I’ve had this piece of junk since I was seventeen.”

He smiled, getting on his feet and brushing some strands of grass out of his beard he’d caught when leaning down to look under it. “We’ll have a wrecker come get it in the morning. It’ll be fine on the street tonight.”

I nodded, suddenly aware I’d have to ask me to the motel and I was trying to word it in my head to sound as professional as I could.

“Do you need a place to stay?” He asked.

I shook my head. “I’ve got a room at the motel on the outskirts of town.” It was a lie, but I figured there had to be an open room at one of them.

He watched me for a second. “I’ve got a spare room.”

I shook my head. “No, I’m alright.” I told him.

“The key to traveling is not to avoid trusting people. The key to it is to always trust someone, because if they mess you up, you never have to see them again. But good people will save you.” He told me, sticking his thumbs in the front pockets of his jeans.

I cracked a smile. “That sounded very new age-y for a biker dude.”

“You sound pretty old school for a hippie chick.” He rebutted.

“I don’t even know your name.” I told him honestly.

“Most people call me Opie.” He said.

“Lucinda, but most people don’t call me anything.” I paused, my smile growing a little. “Trust people, eh?”

“I know you’ve been packing a nine around all day, so don’t act little miss innocent.” He said with a smile, moving back towards the bike and kicking it to life, watching me.

I looked at him with a little grin, shaking my head and getting on behind him. He revved it up and we sailed easily down the road. I was surprised when he turned down a road for some kind of tightly wound neighbor, like a suburb. He pulled into a driveway and parked the bike next to the house, out of the way of the garage and I wondered if he drove a cool car too.

“So, Opie.” I started, glancing at the yard. “You bring many stranded freaks home, or am I just a lucky duck?”

He smirked, giving me a little glance. “You’re sure somethin’ alright.” He said, holding the door open for me.

I ducked my head, feeling a little blush cross my cheeks, so ducking into the darkness seemed like a good idea. He flipped on the switch as he closed the door. The house was simple. The front door opened up into the kitchen on the right side of the room. The dining room and living room were separated by where the back of the couch was in comparison to the dining room table that only sat four people.

“Fridge has food in it if you’re hungry. The tap is clean water. Bedroom’s down here.” He said, moving towards the hall on the left. “Bathroom’s right here.” He said, pushing open the door so I could see the room. “My bedroom’s across the hall.” He said, throwing his thumb to the closed door.

I nodded, taking in the house. There wasn’t a lot of decorations, but the subtle style seemed to fit Opie.

“You drink?” He asked, moving back towards the kitchen and kicking off his biker boots.

I kicked out of my own boots and set them up next to his. “I’ve been known to throw one back.”

“Preference?” He asked, opening a cabinet to reveal large bottles of rum, whiskey and vodka.

“Clear liquors are for rich women on diets.” I told him.

He grinned, slowly off straight, white teeth. He nodded, pulling the bottle of whiskey down. “Hungry?” He asked, pouring two shots and handing one to me.

I shrugged. I was hungry, but I was already imposing by spending the night in his house. He didn’t have to feed me too.

He reached for the fridge, pulling out a box of leftover pizza. He put a piece on a plate and stuck it in the microwave. When it beeped, he pulled it out and set it on the counter in front of me. I mumbled a quiet ‘thank you’, feeling stupid for imposing so much on him.

“So,” He said, pouring us another shot. “Where ya from?”

“Colorado, born and raised.” I told him.

“Long drive.” He told me, watching me for a moment as he handed me my designated shot glass.

I shook my head, tossing back the shot. “Not long enough.”

“Spoken like somebody runnin’ away.” He told me, downing his own shot before sticking another piece of pizza in the microwave.

I took a bite of mine and savored it. “That’s what I keep hearing.”

He smirked a little. “Boyfriend?”

I shook my head again. “Dad.” He watched me carefully as he pulled his food out of the microwave and took a bite, obviously inviting me to explain. “My dad ran off when I was ten. He met some hot piece of ass and split first chance he got, not that he was around much before that. So my mom raised me on her own. She died last month.” I told him, taking the bottle and pouring my own shot. “He decided the funeral was a great time to make an appearance and get my sympathy for him and his wife. They lost their house because of his gambling debt and needed a roof for the kid they’re expecting.” I said, tipping my head back to get the liquor slide down my throat.

Opie made a hissing sound that reminded me of a tire leaking air. “That’s rough.”

“I told him to go fuck himself and he started trying to sue me over my mom’s things. I was the only family she had, so I got everything when she passed. I decided my mom wouldn’t want me to have to deal with it, so I got an attorney to transfer everything to my dad so he’d leave me alone and I left town.” I told him, taking another bite of my dinner.

Opie shook his head. “That’s some shit.”

I nodded. “He threatened to come after me if I left town without him, but him and his bitch wife are so _happy_.” I said with an eye roll.

Opie took another shot. “I’m sorry.”

I glanced around the house for a moment before looking back at you. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but there’s nobody else here. I mean, no wife, no groupies lining up to suck your dick.” My eyes widened a little as the words tumbled out of my mouth. “Shit, I didn’t… I didn’t mean it to come out like that.”

Opie grinned widely at me. “So it’s the whiskey making you talk.” He said with a nod. “Nah, there’s crow eaters back at the clubhouse. Most of them are porn stars that work for Luann Delaney.”

I froze. “Otto’s… wife does porn?”

He nodded. “She has her own studio. The girls come over because they want to. I just… I don’t want that anymore.” He said with a shrug.

“A biker with a heart of gold?” I asked him.

He shrugged again, reaching into his pocket. “You smoke?” He asked, holding up a joint he pulled out of a cigarette case.

I grinned. “Goddamn, a man after my own heart.” I told him, digging in my pocket for the cheap Bic lighter that had been there since this morning.

“Ladies first.” He said, handing me the joint.

“Ever the gentleman.” I said with a smile. “Good thing you got more pizza in there.” I stuck the tightly rolled joint between my lips and clicked the lighter, sucking in a slow breath. I didn’t know how strong his shit was and I didn’t want it to knock me on my ass. I handed him the joint back and let out a breath.

He took a long, deep breath into his lungs and the smoke cloud he let out was dense enough I couldn’t see him for a second.

“Alright. Now you’re just showin’ off.” I told him as I took it back from him. He smiled, watching me take another breath and let it out before handing it back. He took a slower breath of smoke in and let out a smaller cloud of smoke. “I haven’t gotten stoned with anybody in a long time.” I spoke up as he handed it back.

“I smoke with the guys all the time. But they all get stupid stoned.” He said with a shrug.

“Like, is the fruit orange named after the color or is the color named after the fruit?” I asked with a little smile. It was definitely working.

He nodded, taking another hit. There was only one or two hits left on the smoke, so I waved at him, letting him know he could have the rest as I finished my pizza. He took one more hit before stubbing it out in the ash tray closest to him.

“Are you packing heat because you’re traveling alone or because you don’t want your dad to show up unexpectedly?” Opie asked me.

I nodded. “Yes.”

He watched me for a moment before breaking out in a fit of laughter. “What?”

I smiled. “Yes to both. I answer both questions at the same time.”

He shook his head, like he couldn’t believe how stupid I was. He reached into the fridge and pulled out two beers, holding one up in a silent offer. I nodded and he popped both tops, handing me one. He set his on the counter and shrugged out of his jacket, hanging it on the chair at the table before coming back to retrieve his beer and making his way to the couch.

I wasn’t sure what to do, so I followed him, feeling pretty good. His couch was comfy, but firm and I imagined it would make a good bed if you wanted to sprawl out on it. I set my beer down and pulled out my nine, looking at Opie as I set it on the table. I was positive he was no stranger to guns, but it freaked some people out that I carried, so I liked to watch where I stepped.

Opie set his beer down and leaned forward, reaching behind his back and showing me his, setting it on the table pointing towards the opposite wall, the same way I’d done with mine. I smiled a little at him. “Hands down the weirdest situation I’ve even been in.”

“What do you mean?” He asked, sipping his brew.

“Consider this a moment.” I said, moving on the couch so I was facing him. “Hippie chick breaks down on the side of the road. Rescued by two bikers while car is fixed. Hippie chick tries to ride off into the sunset, only to have car break down on the side of the road again. Another biker rescues her and takes her home in the least sexual way possible, to drink and smoke until they giggle their hearts out. It’s the plot for a bad B-rated movie.”

Opie smiled at me and I had the feeling he didn’t do it often. “You’re right. That’s a bad movie alright.”

“Alright, so why aren’t you down for the crow munchers anymore? I mean, don’t get me wrong. I appreciate the hospitality and the fact you didn’t bring me home for that reason. But as a whole, most guys don’t turn down free sexual favors.” I spoke up.

He nodded. “I dated this chick in high school, Donna. Valedictorian of the class. Goddamn most beautiful girl I ever knew. What the hell she saw in me, I don’t know.” He said with a shrug. “She loved me, but she hated the club. She hated that it made me do things I sometimes regret. So she married an accountant and they have two kids.” He said, taking a long draw from his beer. “I’ve had crow eaters for as long as I’ve been patched in. I’m just tired of it.”

“Man, that sucks. I’m sorry.” I said, setting my hand on his arm. I could feel how deeply he’d been invested in this girl before. It hurt to see.

He nodded, giving me a small smile. “But if I had married her, we wouldn’t be sharing a beer right now.”

I grinned. “You’d also probably be doing something more exciting than sharing a beer and stories with a stranger.” I said, giving him a wink.

“Ya know, we still could.” He said with a smile.

I giggled, covering my mouth. “You’re terrible.”

“But you laughed.” He pointed out, sipping his brew.

I nodded with a smile. “Alright. So here’s the deal.” I told him, setting my beer down. “Chances are, my car will be fixed tomorrow. I’m heading for the beach, so chances that I come back through here are slim to none. We’ll probably never see each other again after tomorrow. So tell me something about you that nobody else knows.”

He cocked an eyebrow at me. “Why?”

I shrugged. “Because the best person to tell secrets to is a stranger.”

He watched me for a long moment and I was about to think he was going to object. “I haven’t had sex in almost six months.”

I watched him for a moment. “Really?” I asked, surprised.

He ducked his head like he was ashamed. “Yeah.”

“No, no!” I said, putting my hand on his shoulder. “I didn’t mean it like that. I’m sorry. I just meant, you’re really attractive. It’s hard to believe you’ve been alone that long.”

“Oh yeah?” He asked, watching me carefully. I nodded. He smirked a little, taking a sip of his Bud. “You’re pretty cute yourself.”

I blushed, ducking my head. “Can it, biker boy.”

“Why? Did I embarrass you, hippie chick?” He asked.

I shook my head at him, pulling a cigarette case out of my pocket. I’d loved it from the moment I saw it. It was the pin up Bettie Page. I pulled a joint out and searched my pockets for my lighter. A spark clicked and I looked to see Opie holding my cheap Bic lighter that had butterflies on it. I breathed in, catching the end on fire and handed it to him as I blew out.

“So what’s yours?” He asked me.

I paused for a moment, tilting my head. He raised his eyebrows and I remembered how we were telling secrets. “Yeah, right. Hmmm…” I said, thinking. I glanced around his living room, looking for some kind of inspiration before my eyes landed on his arms. I wasn’t sure how I hadn’t noticed before, but he had tattoos on both arms. “I have a tattoo.” He looked completely unimpressed and started to open his mouth when I stopped him. “I know it sounds stupid, but honestly; I never told anyone I had it. My mom was completely against them and my dad hated them. I didn’t even have anybody to go with. But the guy who did it gave me twenty bucks off it because I wanted one so badly, but I was so nervous.”

Opie watched me for a moment, taking a long drag off the joint before handing it back. “What is it?”

I pulled down the collar of my shirt. Right above my bra line on the right side, was a tattoo of an elephant, about as big as a dime. “It’s an elephant. It was my best friend’s favorite animal. She killed herself Senior year because she was bullied at school.”

His eyes turned to sadness as I sucked on the joint. “I’m sorry.”

I shrugged a little. “It’s alright. I went through a rough patch. I figured if I had a part of her with me, it would save me the way I couldn’t save her.” I said, giving him the joint.

He continued to watch me before his eyes fell on the smoke. “I’m glad you got the tattoo.”

I smiled and nodded, feeling light in my chest. “Me too.”

“So what’s your next one?” He asked with a smile.

I grinned at him, enjoying the conversation switch. “I’m gonna get a paw right on my left arm for my mom. She was left handed and loved dogs.”

He smiled at me. “Most of mine are for the club.”

“Yeah?” I asked.

He nodded, standing up. I was about to ask what he was doing when he reached around to the back of the shirt and tugged it off. There was a big reaper, taking up the most of his back. It said ‘Sons of Anarchy’ above it and ‘California’ below it.

“Holy shit.” I whispered, imaging how long he’d have to sit in a chair for to get that.

He turned and I saw a girl on her knees with some wings coming off her on his left arm. On his right arm was a large Celtic knot, with a little butterfly above it and smoke swirling underneath of it. On his chest, it read ‘The center cannot hold, Anarchy is the only hope’ with the traditional anarchy symbol in the middle with a reaper below it. I couldn’t really tell what the two tattoos were on his hips, but they faded out of sight, below his belt line.

I sat there for a moment, feeling light and airy. “Those are gorgeous.”

“Ya think?” he asked, twisting a little to see his own ink.

“That’s insane. I wanted mine bigger, but it hurt. I barely get this done.” I said, looking at my own chest.

“It’s gorgeous.” He told me sincerely, sitting back on the couch.

I bit my lip, looking at the words that spanned his collar bone. “You must like the feel of it.”

He smiled a little, watching me. “I like how it’s pain, but it’s not.”

I wanted to touch the anarchy symbol at the center of his chest, but I knew most people hated their tattoos being touched, especially by strangers, so I made sure my hands were set in my lap.

“What are you thinking about?” He asked me.

“Your tattoos.” I told him honestly.

“What about them?” He asked.

I smiled a little, tilting my head to look at him. I shrugged, knowing it sounded stupid in my head, so no way it would make sense when it came out of my mouth.

He gently took my hand and I was going to ask what he was doing when he set my fingers on his left arm. I bit my lip, barely skimming my fingers over the skin. “Anyone in particular?” I asked him, seeing the seamless lines of the girl on her knees.

He shook his head. “Just infinite appreciation.”

I smiled. I liked how he’d worded it. “And what about the butterfly?” I asked, referring to his other shoulder.

He moved, sitting to face me on the couch and pulled his other arm closer to show off the little butterfly. “An old love I thought was forever.”

“Donna?” I asked him.

He nodded. “I don’t regret it though. She was a big part of my life. No way to have changed it before the tattoo.” He said with a shrug.

Bravely, I thought to myself, I slowly moved my fingers to set on his chest, my fingertips just barely touching the inked words across his chest.

Opie sucked in a breath and I paused. His eyes found mine and something had changed in them. His hand took mine, pulling my skin away from his. He cleared his throat, looking apologetic. “Sorry. Just… just not that one.”

I tilted my head a little, wondering what was happening, but not knowing how to word my request.

He cleared his throat again. “I have a rule. I don’t mind people touching my tattoos, as long as I know them. Except the chest. Because if you touch the ink on my chest, I’m going to want to rail you into next week.” He said, glancing away from me.

I grinned widely. God, he was adorable. I leaned down and picked his shirt up off the floor. “Maybe this will help then.” He made no protests as he slid the fabric over his head. I stood up from the couch, using his shoulder to balance myself for a moment. “Thank you for the smoke and the beer and the pizza, but I should probably go to bed.” More to rein in my own self, but I wasn’t going to tell him that.

He grabbed my hand, making me stop and turn to him. Before I had time to think, his lips pressed against mine and I almost moaned. His right hand set on the back of my neck and his left laid on my hip. I wrapped my arms around his neck, trying to pull him closer. His tongue swiped against my lips and I opened my mouth, allowing his access. He tasted like smoke and whiskey and I pulled him closer, wanting to taste it forever.

Gently, he pushed on my hips to separate us and I was gasping for air when he leaned down and told me to breathe. But I couldn’t. I was gulping in air like it was the last chance I’d get.

“What happened to don’t touch the tattoos or I’ll rail you for a week?” I asked.

He watched me for a moment. “You never had somebody kiss you just because they wanted to kiss you?”

I shook my head, looking up at him. Every guy that had kissed me wanted more than kisses. I’d never gotten a kiss from a guy without it leading to sex.

“We’ll have to fix that.” He told me, leaning down to kiss me again. His hands snaked down the back of my butt and I moaned against his lips before he cupped my butt and pulled. I gasped, wrapping my legs around his waist as he smiled.

“What was that for?” I asked.

He just grinned. “Didn’t want you getting tired.”

I smiled down at him. “You must not know me very well.” I murmured against his ear.

“I’m gonna call you Lucy.” He told me, taking a step and I couldn’t help the ball of nerves in my stomach at the sensation of moving backwards.

“Why Lucy?” I asked, wishing I could see where the hell we were going.

“You don’t look like a Lucinda.” He told me, bending down and setting me on the big bed in his room.

“Nobody’s ever called me that before.” I told him as his lips reached mine again. He smiled into the kiss and I giggled, making him pull back a little. I bit my lip, feeling embarrassed. “Your… your beard tickled me.” I told him, rubbing my neck.

“Oh yeah?” He asked, raising an eyebrow before kissing my again. His kisses moved slowly down my neck and his lips pulled away before his wiggled his chin, making the course hair brush my skin.

I couldn’t contain the fit of giggles, trying to push him off me. He kissed my neck and my hips involuntarily bucked, making him look at me questioningly. I shook his head at him, feeling breathless. “No chest tattoos, no neck kisses.”

He smiled at me, giving my throat one more peck before his lips found mine again. His beard brushed my neck again and I giggled, trying to push away from him. He pinned my hands above my head and alternated between kissing me and tickling me with his facial hair.

I managed to wiggle my arms out of his grip and reached for his sides. The deep, booming laughter from him as he tried to wiggle out of my reach made me grin. I continued for another minute before falling back on the bed, exhausted. He laid next to me on his side, breathing heavily. I opened my eyes and turned my head to see him watching me, his breathing evening out a little.

“What are you thinking about?” I asked, seeing his eyes never move from my face.

“You.” He replied quietly.

“What about me?” I asked, rolling on my side to look at him better.

“You should stay.” He spoke gently, reaching up to set his hand on my cheek.

I nuzzled into his hand with a smile. “In bed or in Charming?”

He grinned. “Both would be nice.”

“I’m goin’ to the beach.” I told him.

“I’ll take ya to the beach, if I get to bring ya back.” He told me, watching me.

“Why would you want me to stick around anyway?” I asked softly. I felt like speaking any louder would break the mood.

“You said yourself, you’re not going anywhere particular. The beach is nice, but you can’t live there.” He reasoned.

I considered him for a moment. “What would I do if I stay here?”

He shrugged, which didn’t work as well since he was laying on one shoulder. “I’ll help you get a job. You can rent my spare room, unless you want to rent the other half of the bed.” He said with a smile.

“This is huge bed. I’ve had rooms smaller than this.” I told him, moving so I could spread my arms out wide and still not touch him. I didn’t think I’d ever even laid on the a king sized bed before.

He grinned, crawling over to me so he was closer. “So even if you get mad at me, we could still be in the same bed and not even touch.”

I watched his face for a long moment, reaching down to touch his cheek. “I don’t think it’s a good idea.” I told him gently. “I’m sure I have a habit you’d hate and every time I did it, you’d imagine killing yourself with a rusty table knife.”

He grinned widely. “I definitely like you when you’re stoned.” I pushed on his shoulder jokingly. “Or I could fall madly in love with you and turn you into a motorcycle hippie.” He said, still smiling.

I shook my head at him. “You’ll get tired of me.”

He smiled softly. “I got a feeling there’s always somethin’ new with you. I probably won’t get bored for years.”

“You’re serious?” I asked him. He just watched me, neither confirming nor denying it verbally, but I knew the answer already. “Let’s sleep on it.” I told him, wiggling closer to him. He was warm against my cool body and I sighed. He wrapped his arms around me and held me close to him.

“Alright, not in jeans though.” He said after a minute, pulling away and standing up. He moved to the dresser and unbuttoned his jeans, sliding them off his legs to reveal boxer briefs that fit like they’d been stitched just for him. He turned and paused. “What?”

I quickly shook my head, standing up. I figured jeans wouldn’t be comfortable to sleep in, so I shucked mine, turning to see him watch me. I gave him a little smile. “Never seen a girl in her underwear before?” I asked, sliding my vest off and throwing it on the floor with the denim.

He shrugged, although I could tell he was thinking of something. He pulled back the bed and climbed in, moving over so I had enough room. I smiled, laying down. He wrapped his arms around me. “Thank you.” He told me quietly.

I smiled at the rumbled in his chest. “For what?”

“Just being here.” He said. It took a couple minutes, but his breathing evened out and I smiled, feeling safe, despite the fact I knew in the back of my head, I’d known his man less than six hours. Part of me was calling me stupid, but the other part was content and I considered how there were worse places to be than in the arms of a biker who’d rather protect me than hurt me. And it took me only moments to fall asleep.

 

* * *

 

When I woke in the morning, I groaned. I’d slept wrong and there was a painful kink in my neck. I realized there wasn’t a pillow under my head and tilted my head up to see I was nearly a foot from the pillows at the head of the bed. And my feet weren’t hanging off the bed. I looked up, seeing a set of closet doors. I lifted my head to see the short, wide dresser at the foot of the bed and a TV sitting in a stand in the corner of the room. The bed I was on was huge, and although I was curled in a ball, I could have easily stretched and not touched the other side.

A flash of memories ran through my head, including laying on the bed with Opie and showing how I could stretch my arms wide and still not touch him. He’d crawled closer to me and pulled me against him. I remembered having pizza and beer before he kissed me. I remembered sharing joints and the tickle fight.

I tilted my head again, now searching the bed for Opie, even though I knew he wasn’t there. I sat up and looked at the dresser, seeing his jeans weren’t in a pile there. My clothes weren’t in a pile on the floor either; instead they were sitting on a chair, laid out for me. I rubbed my hand over my face, crawling to the edge of the bed. I pulled on my jeans and left the vest laying on the back of the chair.

Pulling at the door, I winced at the sudden intrusion of bright light and covered my eyes.

“Sorry.” I heard someone say. It was definitely Opie, I thought. There was a noise and behind my closed eyes, I could tell that the light had dimmed in the room.

“What time is it?” I asked, blinking away the bright spots.

“Nearly eleven, darlin’.” Another strong voice spoke.

I jumped a little, not seeing the other body at the table for some reason. “Jesus. Have you been here the whole time?” I asked stupidly, already knowing the answer, but having no way to take back the words.

He grinned through the bright spots I still saw. “Not the whole time, obviously. I missed most of last night.” I wasn’t embarrassed per say, but I wasn’t sure what I felt that Opie was talking to this man about… whatever we’d done. “My mom said you’d left town yesterday.” He said.

Ah, so Gemma was a mom. To a biker kid. My mom would’ve died. I nodded. “I tried before the piece of shit broke down again.”

He was all slicked back blonde hair and grins today, this one. “I’m Jax by the way, since my best friend is too rude to introduce me to his house guests.” Opie rolled his eyes so hard, I was pretty sure he saw his brain.

“Lucy.” I told him remembering how Opie told me he was going to call me that.

Opie smirked. “So you like it?”

“It’s easier.” I told him with a shrug. “Coffee?”

“By the toaster. Cups are above it.” Opie told me.

“So you a biker freak too, Jackie?” I asked.

He chuckled. He was easier going than Opie, I thought. This Jax guy just didn’t give a shit where Opie felt more reserved to me. “Biker freak? I ain’t the one wearin’ deer skin, darlin’.”

“Leather is leather, Jackie boy.” I told him, pouring the warm brew into a cup and sipping slowly.

He smiled, like he knew that was what I was going to say. “I kinda like her, Op. You should definitely stick around.” He said, the last part looking at me.

“Why’s that?” I challenged. I felt like he was trying to intimidate me.

He shrugged. “The beach can only get ya so far. And my mom seems to like you.”

“Well, now that I have your mother’s approval.” I said, sitting at the table across from Jax.

Jax grinned widely. “Oh, if she heard you say that.” He said, shaking out his head. “I’m serious though.”

I rubbed the back of my sore neck, leaning down to look at the table. There was a little mark on the table that I couldn’t help but think looked like it’d been chipped away by the notch of a gun sight. “I don’t usually trust men, especially in a large, tight knit group.” I told him, looking over my coffee at him.

He nodded. “Otto told me you were skittish yesterday.”

“Running from people is kind of my thing.” I said with a shrug and a yawn.

“Maybe you need a new thing.” He told me, glancing at Opie and back to me. “There’s worse places to be than a group of tight knit men willing to die for you.”

“Nobody’s dyin’ for me.” I said with a huff, sitting back up straight and sipping my coffee. But I watched the table, considering my dad. If he did come for me, would it be so bad to have some bikers watching my back? I had never doubted my father’s words when he told me he’d come find me. He was mad and serious, nearly fuming from the ears. But I knew he wouldn’t leave the bitch and her baby, despite how he’d left me. But if he thought I’d kept anything from my inheritance, he might convince her to come too.

I glanced up at them, realizing I’d been quiet for a while. “I don’t like having debts. If me staying here and getting a job and participating means I owe you something later, I won’t do it.” I said with a shrug, looking at both of them.

Jax shrugged and shook his head. “You don’t owe us nothin’. My mom paid off your car free and clear on her own dime. The only thing we ask is that if we do need your help, later down the line, you help us if you can.” He said. “Most old ladies never get involved though.”

“Old lady?” I asked, feeling suddenly offended.

Opie’s hand set on my knee, slowing my thought process. “It’s what the club calls the spouses. It’s a sign of respect.”

“Oh.” I said, looking back at the table. God, I knew nothing about this.

“You don’t gotta figure it out now.” Jax said, standing from the table. “But maybe you don’t wanna rush off so fast, you miss what might be worth stickin’ around for.” He told me with a smile, putting on his sunglasses before leaving the house.

I looked at Opie to see him watching me. “Thanks for the coffee.”

He smiled. “No problem.”

“Hear anythin’ on my car?” I asked.

He nodded. “Wrecker picked it up as soon as the guys got to the shop. Last I heard, they can’t figure out what the hell.”

I nodded again, my mind wandering back to Jax’s question. I really didn’t have anywhere else to be and I wasn’t going anywhere specific. For all logic, there was no reason this place wouldn’t work out alright to start over. I hadn’t had a goal when I’d left Colorado, except don’t end up the same place as my dad. Charming wasn’t that big, but it was a nice place, despite its stupid name.

“Would you want me to stay?” I asked Opie suddenly, turning to look at him. I knew he’d asked me to stay last night, but we’d both been inebriated. It didn’t count.

“I don’t want to ask you to do something you don’t want to.” He told me firmly.

I shook my head. “You’re not. I’m asking your opinion of the situation.” I explained. “If I wanted to stay here, in Charming or with you, what are your thoughts?”

He watched me for a moment. “I’d love you to stay. Even if you didn’t wanna be here, just seeing you around would be good enough for me.”

I nodded, stretching a little more. “Okay. So next thing, I need an apartment and a job.”

Opie grinned. “There’s an opening at the grocery store and low income apartments down town.”

I smiled at him, standing up. “Better grab your jacket to scare off any sketchy characters.” I told him, reaching for my boots to pull them on.


End file.
